


Goddamn Cheese-steak

by mhunter10



Series: Something, something mpreg [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, mhunter10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:59:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all Mickey wants....he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goddamn Cheese-steak

“Give me a fucking break!” Mickey shouted at the locked glass door of his favorite deli. He cupped his hands around his eyes and looked into the dark and vacant shop once more, before slamming his fist against the door. A couple walked by staring at him, making him angrier. “What? Keep walking!”

“Mick, calm—”

“If you tell me to fucking calm down, I will send you through that window,” Mickey deadpanned. He scoffed at Ian’s raised hands in surrender. He turned back to the shop and gave it his best death-stare; sneering at the stupid striped awning. The unlit ‘open’ sign mocked him.

Ian came up behind him and tentatively put a hand on his arm. “Maybe we can go somewhere else. Okay?”

Mickey turned on the redhead and glared at him, pointing an accusing finger, “This is your fault!”

Ian couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief, eyes wide. “How?”

“If you wouldn’t have taken so long, we would have gotten here before they closed!”

“If you hadn’t gone to the bathroom again, we might have made it!”

Mickey’s fists were balled at his sides and he was shaking with anger. “I had to go again because you took so fucking long!” He couldn’t believe he just stamped his foot on the ground in public. A man stopped and asked them if everything was alright, and Mickey exploded for him to “fuck the fuck off”. He put his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes, breathing hard through his nose and pacing.

Ian saw how exhausted Mickey was, and felt guilty for starting an argument. He felt bad for screwing up and making him wait, when he should have put him first. It wasn’t just about him anymore, and he couldn’t act the same as he did before. He felt stupid and now Mickey felt bad. “Do you want to sit down?” He stopped him pacing and turned him to look at him.

Mickey sighed and wiped at his eye. “My head hurts and I’m fucking hungry. No, I don’t want to sit down.”

Ian nodded. At least his voice wasn’t angry anymore. Actually he just sounded tired and like he was about to cry. He brought him closer and rubbed up and down his arms, looking him in the eye. “I’m sorry we didn’t get here in time. I’ll find you someplace else, alright? What do you want to eat?”

Mickey huffed out a breath, exasperated. He eyed the closed door of the deli and frowned. He felt weak and he hated it. He hated that his body was screaming…no, demanding him to eat one thing and only that thing would satisfy him. It was getting him upset all over again, which happened a lot now days. And since he was always around Ian, he got the brunt of his…tantrums? God, he didn’t even want to think about that word and when it would eventually apply. He knew Ian knew why he did it, but it still made him feel like shit when he lashed out at the one person he knew he had by his side. This was new for both of them, and things had barely just begun. It made him feel both weird and happy seeing Ian working so hard to get used to his new role. He was trying, and here Mickey was yelling at him in the middle of the street like he was a freaking lunatic. He could see Ian really wanted to fix this, and his insides were turning with hunger…and maybe a little nausea.

“All I wanted was a goddamn cheese-steak with sour cream and onions! Is that so much to ask?” He pleaded, his voice breaking a bit.

“Okay, we’ll get you that. I think they do cheese-steaks at that place down the block…”

“But I wanted it from here, Ian…” Mickey kept his foot firmly on the ground that time, but he still didn’t like the bitchy sound of his voice. He could see the wheels turning in Ian’s head like he actually might be thinking of breaking into the place and making him the sandwich himself, if it really came down to it. He looked determined to do just that, if Mickey didn’t say something. “Nevermind, I’m sorry. This kid is making me an insane douchebag. It’s fine. We’ll go and try down there.” Ian didn’t look completely convinced that he’d solved anything, so Mickey leaned up and kissed him. That seemed to do it. 

Ian walked close to Mickey the whole way, admiring the way his favorite blue tank looked on him now that he was just beginning to show. It wasn’t that loose on him to begin with, but there was less fabric bunching around his middle than before. He’d just noticed Mickey was wearing one of his hoodies and told him he looked good in it like that, which got him a semi-hard hit in the arm. Mickey rolled his eyes and smiled teasingly, as he zipped it over the small bump to keep him from staring at it, but Ian knew he was feeling his popped stomach through the pockets as they continued their trek. He had to keep himself from skipping down the sidewalk with a grin on his face.

But when they finally got there, the line was out the door. “Fuck! I forgot about the lunch rush, Mick. I’m sorry.” He turned to his boyfriend with a mixture of fresh remorse and annoyance on his face. He was expecting Mickey to blow again, but it didn’t seem to have hit him yet.

Mickey eyed the line then looked down, worrying his lip. He scuffed his shoe on the ground and rubbed his belly. Ian was waiting for him to probably punch him and everyone else getting in the way of him getting some food, but sometime during their walk his body decided to change his mind about everything he ever thought he wanted ever in his life…to eat. And the smell of grease wafting from the open door of whatever the hell this place was, was suddenly making him re-evaluate the choices he’d made earlier for breakfast. He needed to get away from here.

“What do you want to do, Mick? You have to eat. I don’t want you to be hungry. I’m supposed to be taking care of you two, and I can’t even get you a goddamn cheese-steak! I’m sorry, Mickey. Do you feel okay? Does your head still—”

“Gallagher!” Mickey’s hands flew up to cup the redhead’s face before he exploded.

“What?” Ian’s eyes blew wide with concern, looking at Mickey’s face for some sign of what was wrong.

Mickey chuckled slightly, before biting his lip and looking away for a second. “Can we just…get some ice cream and go home?”

Ian stared at him for a moment, making sure he heard right. “Ice cream?”

Mickey nodded slowly.

“Is that what you want?”

“With sprinkles,” he grinned playfully, poking his tongue in the corner of his mouth. His thumb slid gently on Ian’s cheek briefly before letting his face go.

Ian smiled at the small touch. The line had moved forward to the point they weren’t even a part of it anymore, but that was fine with them. “I can do ice cream with sprinkles,” he pulled Mickey closer by his waist until he could feel the bump pressed between them. It felt amazing. “Where do you want to go?”

Mickey groaned halfheartedly into Ian’s chest, “I don’t care, as long as they got a bathroom.”

Ian laughed, kissing the top of his head. “Alright, let’s go.”

Mickey lingered for a moment in Ian’s arms then pulled away, his body once again taking control in the form of having to piss like a race horse.

“Hey, didn’t that video say the baby is like the size of a sprinkle or something right now?” Ian quirked an eyebrow at Mickey, only sort of joking as he started in search of an accommodating shop. 

“Maybe more like a peanut M&M,” Mickey answered without missing a beat.

“Guess you better get both.”

“Yeah.”

Mickey followed next to Ian, smiling a little and putting his hands in the pockets of the hoodie.


End file.
